


Close Call

by for_the_love_of_wolves



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Angst, Blood and Injury, Guilt, Hurt Peter Hale, Hurt/Comfort, Wolfsbane Poisoning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24428029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_the_love_of_wolves/pseuds/for_the_love_of_wolves
Summary: Peter takes a bullet for Derek and almost dies. Derek helps him to heal.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Peter Hale
Comments: 9
Kudos: 87





	Close Call

It happens so fast. 

Later, Derek won’t even remember hearing the first shot. 

But he will remember Peter pushing him out of the line of fire so sudden and so hard, Derek stumbles and falls, hitting his head on a tree stump. 

He will remember the puzzled look on Peter’s face when the bullet pierces his chest. How he stumbles backwards with the force of the impact, a hand reaching for the wound, only to collaps like a puppet with cut through strings when another bullet hits him in the shoulder. 

The second time, Derek hears the shot and he sees the hunter, standing between two trees, his weapon raised. A hot wave of rage overwhelms him and he jumps at the man with a roar, his eyes flashing grimson. The hunter can’t point his weapon at Derek on time and he goes down with a grunt. Derek digs his claws into flesh and bares his fangs but the hunter just grins up at him, his eyes spitting manic hatred. “That bullet was meant for you, _Alpha_ , but don't worry, there are enough like me who will end the job,” he breathes and Derek sees red.  
  
He hits the man in the face and feels teeth giving way under his fist. _This is for hurting my family_ , he all but screams in his head as he slams his fist into the man’s face for a second time. And when the man only laughs, spitting out a bloody tooth onto the forest floor, Derek almost loses control over the wolf raging inside him. Almost. His claws are out and his hand is drawn back for a deathly strike. Almost. But then, Peter calls his name and Derek wakes up from the haze of rage. He growls at the hunter and beats him unconscious. When he can be sure the man is no threat anymore, he turns and hurries to get to Peter who is laying on his back, breathing shallowly. 

His uncle's eyes are closed when he approaches. But they snap open the moment Derek crouches down beside him, his rage turning into worry. The smell of blood and poison is heavy in the air. It threatens to suffocate Derek as he lays a hand on Peter’s arm to take his pain. When it crawls up his arms and into his own bloodstream, he groans and sways with the intensity of it.  
  
Peter tries to push him away feebly, mumbling, “No. Go. Go, pup, there might be more of them …” 

Derek freezes. _Pup_. Peter hasn't called him pup in ages. Somehow, that makes everything even uglier. He watches in horror as his uncle’s head lolls to the side and he gags, coughing up black blood. This shouldn’t be happening so fast, Derek knows. But he also knows that although Peter helped with the Nogitsune and no one considers him the villain anymore, he’s barely integrated in the pack, the bond weak and brittle. Derek actually wanted to talk to Peter about this here, under the pretext of some supernatural threat they had to check on. He wanted to gain the courage to tell Peter he could come to pack meetings more often, that they could talk about what happened in the past properly without anyone else adding their opinion, and that they could check on each other regularly instead of seldomly, because Derek misses what they once had. He wanted to say all these things and now _this_ happened. Now Peter had to take a bullet for Derek. Now Derek might never get a chance to tell Peter he actually _cares_. Fuck. 

While all these thoughts race through his mind, Derek rips Peter’s blood soaked shirt open, exposing skin that already is overran by thin black lines. He looks at the ragged bullet holes and swallows. “I have to pull them out to slow the poisoning down,” he murmurs, not sure if Peter even hears him. He decides to do it as fast as possible, pushing his claws into flesh and gritting his teeth. When he pulls at the second bullet, Peter whines and his claws dig into Derek’s arm, drawing blood. Derek barely feels the pain in his concentration. He exhales in relief and new awakening rage when he finally holds the bullets in his hand, putting both into his pocket.  
  
He looks down at Peter, who looks worse with every second and knows there’s only one place he can find help now. It's a long way there, so he can't lose any more time. He hoists Peter up and carries him to his car as fast as he can. 

* * *

It’s a blessing there’s no costumer in the Animal Clinic, because when Derek stumbles inside, pulling a barely lucid Peter with him, he leaves a trail of blood and dirt behind. 

Deaton looks up from where he’s bent over some papers, and his eyes widen slightly. He gestures towards the backroom, turning the sign at the door from “opened” to “closed”. 

Derek lays Peter on the table and takes a step back, watching with wide eyes when Deaton comes closer, putting a pair of gloves on. “What happened,” the vet asks calmly. Derek swallows. “We were attacked in the preserve. I didn't even smell that hunter. Peter got shot two times. I managed to pull the bullets out, but the poison is spreading so fast this time, and he’s not really healing …”  
  
Deaton is already bent over Peter’s lifeless form, cleaning the wounds to get a better look at them. He frowns and says carefully, “I can’t promise …”

“Just do what you can. Please,” Derek interrupts him. 

Deaton nods. He gets some vials and cans from his many drawers with controlled and practised movements.  
  
Derek drops on a plastic chair, running a hand down his own sweaty face. He watches Deaton work and his agitated wolf settles down slowly. This is the man who has always been there, when one of the Hales were hurt. Derek still remembers Deaton carefully, gently, pulling splinters out the fingers of crying pups many years ago. He remembers the vet being at pack meetings, offering advice to Talia. Deaton saved more than one wolf in the past and if someone can help Peter, it’s him. Derek can't do anything else than wait and hope now.

Time passes.  
  
Minutes turn into an hour. An hour and a half. The clock ticks on indifferently.  
  
Derek stares at Peter who still hasn't even stirred and he starts to feel guilty. He’s familiar to the sensation. _This is on me, again_ , he thinks. _Peter wouldn’t have been there if I didn’t tell him to come. If Peter dies, it will be my fault. It always is my fault. I can’t do anything right. I'm a failure. I don't even know why the Alpha spark chooses to stay …_

After what seems like an eternity, Deaton pulls his bloodied gloves off and clears his throat, ripping Derek out of his dark thoughts. “I think he’s going to survive. Whoever made these bullets, knew exactly what they were doing. The poison is incredibly strong. But … Peter’s healing doesn’t really seem to kick in. He’s going to need a lot of rest.”  
  
Derek nods. “Thank you.”  
  
Alive is enough for now, he thinks, feeling relieved.

* * *

He takes Peter to his apartment and lays him on his bed. Then, he doesn’t really know what to do with himself. He stares at his unconscious uncle and at the still blood soaked bandages wrapped around his chest and shoulder, inhaling the too sweet scent of antiseptic, some of Deaton’s herbs and lingering wolfsbane. 

In the end, Derek decides to stay. He doesn’t know if Peter wants him to, but the wounds will heal faster with a pack member being close. So he lays beside Peter, moving until his shoulder brushes Peter’s uninjured one, and closes his eyes. Somehow, this stirs uncomfortable memories. He knows he should have done this in the past, when their family was destroyed and Peter laid in a hospital bed, alone and helpless.

Derek remembers Laura staring him down when he asked why they were leaving when there was someone of their pack still alive and severely injured. When he asked why they didn’t spend their nights at Peter’s side, helping him to recover. Laura told him to shut up and follow him, follow his new Alpha. “We aren’t save here,” she snapped at him. “Can’t you see it? He won’t wake up anyway.” And Derek followed her in the end. His wolf screamed at him to do it. He believed her words and left Beacon Hills, feeling wounded and afraid.

But years later, Peter did wake up of course. And he was full of rage. 

_I should have stayed_ , Derek thinks. 

He should have been there for Peter, like Peter has been there for him. Peter has saved him from hunters more than once, he has taught Derek to control his wolf and he was there when Talia wasn’t, when she was too busy. They were more than uncle and nephew. They were friends. Sure, there were moments when Peter was an absolute pain in the ass, just like he is now, for example when he said he wanted to teach Derek how to get out of a hunter's trap and actually set one up, only to watch Derek dangling from a tree and laughing his ass off; but still … in the end he was always there.

  
_I wasn’t_ , Derek thinks and swallows around the lump in his throat. He's feeling like someone is pulling at his heart. All the memories of his past pack life come back to him. He takes a bit more of Peter’s pain and then tries to sleep for a while. 

* * *

  
Peter opens his eyes the next morning. He blinks into the sunlight and groans. “Derek?” He asks, his voice hoarse. “What are you doing here?”  
  
Derek offers him a bottle of water. He got up a few hours ago and already made breakfast. “I stayed,” he says, while Peter drinks. “To help you to heal faster.”  
  
Peter sets the bottle down, looks down at his bandaged chest and grimaces. “Didn’t think you would care so much.” He actually sounds surprised. 

“You’re pack,” Derek says. 

Peter makes a doubtful noise.  
  
Derek glares. “You _are_.” He clears his throat. “Why did you take that bullet for me?”  
  
Peter smiles at him. “You’re the Alpha," he says, as if it's oh so obivous.

Derek frowns. “That’s all?” He remembers Peter calling him pup and realizes he's _hoping_ for more.

Peter sighs. He looks away and fumbles with the bandage around his shoulder. He doesn't look at Derek when he says, “Well. Maybe you're also my favourite nephew and I didn’t want to see you die.”  
  
Derek swallows. He doesn't know what to feel. So he settles on anger. “ _You_ almost died. Don’t do this. Ever again.”  
  
“Noted, Alpha,” Peter says and at least sounds only halfway sarcastic. He tries to sit up and hisses, his eyes filling with pain. Derek sits on the edge of the bed and reaches out to touch Peter’s arm, taking the pain without a word. 

Peter watches him closely. Eventually, he says, “Stop blaming yourself for things you don’t even have control over, Derek. I can see it in your eyes. You couldn’t have known the hunter would be there. And I pushed you away to protect you. It was _my_ call.”  
  
Derek swallows heavily. Sometimes he asks himself if Peter actually can read his thoughts. He nods, feeling grateful for his uncle’s words. They seem to apply to more than just this incident.  
  
Peter leans back against the pillows and looks at him questioningly. “Why did you want me there, anywhere? I didn’t believe your story about the supernatural threat for a second, you know. You're a terrible liar. I don't even need to listen to your heartbeat to know, your eye always starts to twitch ...” 

Derek hesitates. Then, he starts to talk.

**Author's Note:**

> I always love to hear what you think about my stories! <3
> 
> Say hi on [Tumblr](https://for-the-love-of-wolves.tumblr.com/)  
> :)


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